It was, it was only a dream?
A story created by the mind of my own imagination? I breathed out relieved. My heart unable to calm down thudded against my chest while sweat dripped down my forehead, trickling off of my nose. Leaving me alert and my mind racing, I couldn't fall back asleep. I got up hoping to calm my mind. I pulled on a t-shirt and I walked down stairs, grabbing a glass cup filling it with water. I turned to the window and looked out, the palm trees swaying at the push of the night breeze and the moon illuminating everything from my eyes reach. Finishing my last sip, I started to walk back up stairs when a quiet knock interrupted the natures harmony of music. I ignored it thinking it was just my imagination but the soft knock returned. A little louder this time, I walked over and I peered through the blinds. It was Lydia. Fluster was written all over her expression. I opened the door quietly hoping to not wake my dad.
"Hey," I said to her.
Lydia looked up from her hands and whispered a "Hi."
Her nose was a faint red and her hair fell behind her shoulders, wearing grey sweatpants and a black tank top, the usual bedwear.
I pointed behind my shoulder, "Do you wanna come in?"
She looked at me confused like I had forgotten something, but she shook it off and then moved forward.
She had goosebumps on her arms so I worried, "You look cold let me get you a blanket, sit on the couch, I'll be back!"
As I walked back with the cotton blanket that use to be my mothers', I turned the corner into the living room, " Hey I finally found a..." She was gone. "Blanket..." Going to the couch I looked over and there she was, she hadn't left after all. Head placed on the armrest, her hands folded over the other in a peaceful sleep, and with her hair dangling off of the couch. For a minute I couldn't help but stare, I didn't think she could get more beautiful and she did. The simplicity of her sleeping added to her beauty. I pulled the blanket over her, covering her up until her neck. I sat in the chair next to her and I stared softly, studying her every detail. The steady rise and the fall of her chest, the whispers of the air passing in and out through her dainty nose, and every now and then she would flash a faint smile. These simple actions were like a hypnosis bringing me to a deep sleep. I had woken to the sun that made it's way through the blinds, streaks hitting my eyes. My head had fallen over to the side and my legs dangled off the armrest, arms crossed. I looked to the couch but I didn't see her strawberry blonde locks, her freckled nose, or her delicate kissable lips. Only a folded blanket and the impression of where she had once laid, remained. I walked back upstairs and while in the bathroom I looked to the trash and inside a bloody t-shirt laid, the one from the "dream".
YOU ARE READING
Only A Memory (Part 1)
WerewolfWith the start of the third grade, Stiles Stilinski moves into a town called Beacon Hills. Upon arriving he joins a friendship with Scott McCall, and a strawberry blonde who caught his eye from the beginning. As time travels forward the story flashe...
